Love came unexpectedly, but something went wrong.
One evening, Emily was walking home from work through a little park when a tiny puppy tumbled out of a bush right at her feet. He was chubby and round, like a little dumpling.
“Oh, where did you come from, you little cutie?” she cooed, bending down.
The pup yipped, wagged his tiny tail, and nuzzled her trainers. She scooped him up, and the way he looked at her—so loyal and a bit sad—she couldn’t just leave him there.
Emily carried him home, opened her flat, and set him down. He immediately started sniffing around.
“What am I supposed to do with you? I don’t even know how to take care of a dog… Oh, and I need to name you!” She had no idea what breed he was or how big he’d get. While she was thinking, the pup disappeared.
“Oi, where’ve you gone? Hey, Alfie!” she called, and he came rolling out from behind the telly stand. “Oh, so you’re Alfie, then! Alfie it is—unless you grow into a giant, then we’ll upgrade you to Alfred.”
The pup whined—he was starving. Emily checked the fridge but found nothing for him.
“I’ll just grab some milk for now. Better yet, I’ll pop into the pet shop across the street, get some advice,” she thought, hurrying out.
“Right, Alfie, be good. Back soon!” She shut the door carefully, leaving him whining behind her.
At the pet shop, Emily explained her situation to the clerk.
“I’ve got no clue what to feed him—this was so spur of the moment.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. I’ll give you the basics, and the internet’s your friend.”
She came home with bags full of puppy food and supplies. Alfie grew bigger every day, and Emily learned fast—how to train him, walk him on a lead, even the fear of him slipping away.
“Alfie, no! Alfie, drop it!” she’d scold.
Her biggest worry was leaving him alone while she was at work.
“God knows what mischief he’ll get up to today. What’s he chewing now?”
Alfie grew into a full-sized Alfred—not massive, but sturdy, with smooth brown fur. Her neighbour Margaret, who had a pedigree German Shepherd, took one look and said,
“Emily, he’s probably a Labrador mix, but he’s got the look.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Emily laughed. “I didn’t pick him—he picked me.”
A year on, she still called him Alfie unless he was in trouble—then it was Alfred. He was well-behaved, obeyed commands, and took his job of “walking her” very seriously.
“Alfred, you’re the reason I never get a lie-in. Worse than an alarm clock,” she’d grumble, ruffling his ears.
But he loved weekends—long walks to the park, the lake, the dog run where he could go wild. By the time they got home, he’d be panting, tongue lolling. Alfie was her shadow, comforting her when she was down, and vice versa. She couldn’t imagine life without him.
Before Alfie found her, she’d split with her ex, James. They’d lived together in her flat for a year—a year of constant bickering. James was hopeless—shoes left in the hallway, jackets dumped on the sideboard, toothpaste splattered everywhere.
“James, there’s a place for things. Hang your coat up, put your shoes away—I’m not your maid.”
“Why bother? I’ll just wear them tomorrow,” he’d shrug.
She’d never met anyone so messy. Toothpaste on the mirror, towels on the floor, dishes left out—she never managed to reform him. Their last fight ended with her kicking him out. Worse, he was insanely jealous—always grilling her about where she’d been, who’d called.
Her three-bedroom flat in the city centre was her grandmother’s, who’d moved in with Emily’s parents when her health declined. Her grandfather, a surgeon, had left it to them.
Emily worked in an office nearby, so coming home to Alfie was easy. He’d be waiting by the door, tail wagging. She’d leash him up, and off they’d go. She even shopped for his food on her lunch break so he wouldn’t wait too long.
Then Tom came along—when she wasn’t even looking for love. But as they say, it sneaks up on you. She fell hard.
Their romance was a whirlwind. She was twenty-six; he was thirty. For once, everything felt easy—no fights, no interrogations, just happiness.
“Is this real?” she’d wonder.
Tom never raised his voice, spoke just enough, and loved surprises. They married within a year. Only one thing bothered her—how he felt about Alfie.
After the wedding, the question was: where to live? Her flat was prime real estate—if they rented it, she could quit her job. Tom’s place was mediocre, but with a makeover, it’d do.
“Let’s renovate yours and move,” she suggested.
“No dogs,” he said flatly. “I don’t like pets. Especially yours.”
Emily couldn’t fathom it. Alfie, for his part, ignored Tom. She wasn’t about to abandon her loyal friend, so after endless debates, they stayed in her flat.
“Don’t expect me to lift a finger for that dog,” Tom warned. She didn’t ask.
Then, disaster struck. Her cousin died in a car crash. Emily had to travel for three days to help her aunt. Reluctantly, Tom agreed to watch Alfie.
When she returned, Tom wasn’t home. Alfie greeted her ecstatically. She took him for a walk, but he kept pulling her in an odd direction.
“Alfie, where are we going?” she muttered, letting him lead. Then, outside a café, he growled.
She spotted Tom’s car.
“He’s supposed to be at work.”
Tying Alfie to a railing, she stepped inside—and froze. There was Tom, holding hands with a pretty young woman, gazing into her eyes like no one else existed.
Emily bolted outside, untied Alfie, and walked blindly until he guided her to a bench in the park. She sat numbly as he rested his head on her lap, sensing her pain.
It took her a while to process. She decided:
“If I confront him now, he’ll lie. Say it was a work meeting. But what if it wasn’t?”
She needed proof. That evening, Tom came home with excuses.
“Work’s mad lately. Boss is on my case—might have to stay late.”
“Since when is your workload so heavy?”
“New contracts. He’s threatening to fire anyone who slacks.”
“Hope the pay’s worth it,” she said flatly.
Tom didn’t notice her tone.
The next morning, his phone buzzed. A message: *Good morning, darling. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you. Love, your kitten.*
Emily’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t even locked his phone—so sure she’d never look.
Another message came the next day: *Miss you. Meet at our café after work? Love you.*
That evening, Alfie dragged her back to the café. Tom’s car wasn’t there—until it was. Emily hid behind a tree as he helped a woman out of the car, kissing her before they went in.
“Easy, Alfie,” she whispered.
She waited, then marched inside just as Tom and the woman clinked glasses, sealing their toast with a kiss.
“Hello, lovebirds,” Emily said coolly. “And who’s this? Business meeting, I assume?”
Tom froze. The woman pouted. “Timmy, who is she?”
“I’m his wife. He told you he wasn’t married, didn’t he?”
The woman’s face fell.
“Tom, don’t bother coming home. I’ll pack your things. Call when you want them.”
She left, heartbroken but clear-headed. Alfie trotted beside her.
“Thanks, Alfie. I’d have never known without you.”
Tom’s excuses when he came for his things were pathetic—*It was just once!*—but Emily held firm. Later, she cried, wondering why people betrayed trust.
At least dogs never did.
